


And a Bottle of Rum

by grapalicious



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enjolras and Grantaire are dorks, Enjolras and co are shitty pirates, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapalicious/pseuds/grapalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is the leader of a gang of pirates.</p>
<p>A gang of pirates that believe in equality for all and want to end the suffering of the unfortunate.</p>
<p>Grantaire sometimes wonders if they picked the right profession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And a Bottle of Rum

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a pirate au and it turned into this.
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for this fic: Bad Humor, Ridiculous References (see how many you can catch), and Very Little Piracy
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I'm open to story ideas and suggestions. :)

Grantaire decides to bring it up one day because it's about time someone actually said it.

"We're sort of awful at being pirates, you know," he states casually as the crew is gathered on the deck of _Les Amis_. And for god's sake, what kind of name is that for a pirate ship? He suspects Jehan had a hand in coming up with it.

Enjolras, glorious but awful pirate captain that he is, puts down the map in his hands to glare at Grantaire.

"Well, maybe if you weren't always-"

"Ah, no," Grantaire interrupts. "See, I think you misheard, I said 'we' and not 'me' but I guess what I really meant was 'you'. Because I'm actually a decent pirate." 

He wasn't Jack Rackam but he had drinking and scruffy looks and cynicism down.

Enjolras blinks slowly and then sighs. "How exactly are _we_ awful at being pirates?" And, oh god, Grantaire wants to laugh because it sounds like Enjolras genuinely does not know the answer to that.

So Grantaire obliges him. "Well, for starters," he says, "every time we come across a ship that's weaker than ours, we don't overtake it. We usually give them supplies. And every time we come across a ship that's stronger than ours, we get our asses kicked."

There's a look of indignation on Enjolras' face until Combeferre chimes in with, "He's got a point." Murmuring assent comes from the rest of the crew.

"And the one time we didn't get our asses kicked by a stronger ship," Grantaire continues, "we let them leave with all their cargo untouched because you found out their first mate was an orphan."

Enjolras straightens up at that and says, "That's because we have orphans on board too and know how awful it is. Feuilly is an orphan! Would you want to take cargo from Feuilly?"

The crew starts to hover protectively around Feuilly.

"No," replies Grantaire and there's a collective sigh of relief, "but that's not my point."

"Then what is your point?"

Grantaire shrugs. "We're awful pirates. Have you ever considered a change in careers? You could maybe try politics."

It's not really a surprise when Enjolras' face turns stony and he answers, "Those with crowns upon their heads tend to inflict much more damage and harm among their people than any pirate with a sword in hand."

There's nodding and agreement from the crew.

"We might be pirates," Enjolras goes on, "we might be awful pirates, but contrasted with those who live lives of supposed respectability, the work we do is comparatively honest."

Cheering erupts aboard _Les Amis_.

Grantaire shakes his head and says nothing because, honestly, he's got no arguments for that.

*  
*

They're in port. For the third time in as many weeks.

For a group with a seafaring profession, they sometimes seem to spend just as much time on land as they do on water.

Grantaire's eating an orange per Joly's orders because nobody on _Les Amis_ is going to end up with scurvy if Joly has anything to say about it. And Joly has _a lot_ to say about it- he's always giving the crew strict instructions to eat citrus and listing all the possible symptoms, including convulsions and neuropathy and- sometimes Grantaire's not sure why he even still wants to be a pirate.

A flash of gold catches his attention and- oh yeah, he remembers exactly why he's still a pirate as he watches Enjolras walk past, intently focused on a book in his hands.

Quickly finishing his orange and picking up another one, Grantaire follows his captain.

"Hey, Cap'n."

Enjolras stops and hums but doesn't look up from the book. 

Grantaire tosses the orange at him, grinning as it's caught one-handed. "Eat."

Enjolras spares the orange a glance before tossing it back with the reply of, "Busy." He starts walking again.

Grantaire follows him, peeling the orange. "Come on, Enjolras. Do you really want Joly to start inspecting your tongue because he thinks you're not getting enough vitamins?"

That makes Enjolras halt and turn back to him thoughtfully. Grantaire smirks, tears off a section of orange, and holds it out. But instead of just grabbing it, Enjolras leans forward and takes it with his teeth, leaving Grantaire trying very hard to ignore the sensation of Enjolras' mouth against his fingers and the warmth blossoming across his face.

What he can't ignore is the way Enjolras' eyes light up as he eats the fruit and the warm feeling spreading through his body.

Because Grantaire can't resist, he asks, "Orange you glad you tried some?"

Enjolras bursts out in laughter and his eyes light up even more. The warmth continues to spread through Grantaire and he tries to focus on tearing the rest of the peel off the orange.

Enjolras grins at him. "What can I say, you made it very...," his smile grows, "appealing."

Grantaire throws the rind at him and then they're both laughing.

Yeah. This is exactly why he's still a pirate.

*  
*

They really are awful pirates because they can't even find treasure when they're holding the treasure map in their hands. They've been wandering around this island for hours and Grantaire would be annoyed but he's been steadily draining the bottle of rum in his hands and keeps getting distracted by the fact that he got stuck walking directly behind Enjolras and the view is really quite lovely.

"I don't understand," Courfeyrac is saying. "It should be here somewhere. It says on the map the treasure is right in the middle of the island by a waterfall. I don't even see any streams around here."

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre's voice is tight, "can I see the map?"

Paper rustles as the map exchanges hands and then a moment's silence until, "You've been looking at it upside down. That's not an M for middle, it's a W for west. And that isn't a picture of a waterfall, it's a giant tree." Combeferre isn't speaking much louder than a whisper but everyone who came along for the treasure hunt can hear him perfectly.

"You mean like that giant tree that was right near our ship when we docked on the west side of the island?" Courfeyrac asks sheepishly.

There's loud groaning from everyone, except for Bossuet, who starts laughing hysterically.

"You're not allowed to be in charge of maps anymore," Enjolras tells Courfeyrac as they all turn around to backtrack where they came from. Grantaire tries to pretend like he wasn't just ogling Enjolras' ass but from the look Enjolras gives him, he's not sure how successful he is.

They find the treasure three hours later.

*  
*

They lose the treasure three days later.

Well, they give it away, technically.

They come across another ship and the captain claims that its crew is entirely composed of orphans. Grantaire knows that's unlikely but he's not going to say anything because he doesn't want to get suspicious looks from Feuilly for a week.

Enjolras, however, doesn't even question it. He just offers them the treasure in hopes that it will ease the burdens of these poor unfortunate souls.

It's a good thing Grantaire's not into piracy for making a profit.

*  
*

Grantaire finds Enjolras conversing with- of all things- a mermaid.

The crew were all in the tavern, drinking and singing, but Grantaire noticed Enjolras was missing and went to go look for him.

He's sitting on a rock right by the water. The moonlight is shimmering off the surface of the ocean and the dark haired, green skinned creature floating in the water paints a mystical, beautiful picture but Grantaire has a hard time pulling his eyes away from Enjolras.

"So you're ruled by a king?" he can hear Enjolras asking as he approaches.

"Why don't you come for a swim with me? I could show you?" Her voice is melodic and Grantaire would almost call it hypnotic, if not for the fact that he was so often mesmerized by Enjolras' passionate words and the mermaid's voice pales in comparison.

"I have no interest in seeing any kings," Enjolras says with disdain.

Grantaire sits next to him and the only acknowledgement Enjolras gives of his presence is lightly bumping their shoulders together. The mermaid, however, grins ferociously up at him.

"What about you? Don't you want to come for a swim?"

"My hair looks horrible when it's wet," says Grantaire flatly.

"Tell me more about your society," Enjolras orders the mermaid.

The mermaid glowers and says, "It's really not all that interesting. It's pretty much a merrow eats merrow world. Everybody for themselves."

"Sounds like you're all kind of shellfish," Grantaire quips and Enjolras stifles a giggle beside him.

The mermaid's gaze flicks back and forth between them. She sighs. "I'm fighting a losing battle here, aren't I?"

Grantaire shrugs. Enjolras nods.

The mermaid sighs again and disappears into the sea, leaving only ripples dancing under the moonlight.

*  
*

They come across the captain of the Patron-Minette, Montparnasse, bothering a barmaid.

"C'mon, Éponine, for old time's sake."

"I told you no. Now leave me alone."

"Is there a problem here?" Enjolras interrupts coldly.

Montparnasse turns to them lazily, taking in Enjolras flanked by his crew. He smirks, says, "No," and walks off.

They're left with a scowling Éponine. "I could have taken care of him myself, you know. Montparnasse isn't as fearsome as people make him out to be. He doesn't know the difference port and starboard."

Enjolras looks at her consideringly. "How do you feel about being a pirate?"

Éponine grins.

*  
*

Éponine groans. "We are awful pirates. And none of you know the difference between port and starboard either."

"Tell me about it," Grantaire smiles at her and offers his bottle. She takes a drink and passes it back.

A voice rings out over the noise of the crew.

"Grantaire, put the bottle down!" But it lacks any bite and seems to have been yelled out of habit more than anything else.

Grantaire rolls his eyes and takes an extra long swig because he's a _pirate_ and what good is being a pirate if you can't at least drink?

*  
*

It's pure irony that they get attacked by a giant squid only a couple days after they finally convince Bahorel that krakens don't exist.

There aren't any casualties or even any injuries, but all the rum is gone and Grantaire spends the better part of a week sulking.

*  
*

"That was amazing. We should do that again."

"For once, I actually agree with you on something."

"You know what you should say every time you agree with me, mon capitaine?"

"... What?"

"Arrr, R."

Grantaire gets pushed out of bed but he's laughing too hard to care.

*  
*

They come across a whaleship with a strange name that Grantaire can't quite recall.

Enjolras lectures the captain for over an hour on the ethics of whale hunting, the acts that can constitute animal cruelty, and the adverse effects of endangering a species.

It goes better than the time they encountered the pirate captain with weird feelings towards crocodiles. As much as Grantaire isn't exactly opposed to being tied up with Enjolras, he'd rather it didn't happen while being forced walk the plank.

*  
*

When Grantaire quietly slips into the captain's quarters, he sees Enjolras standing at his desk bent over and shuffling through papers.

He moves behind Enjolras, wrapping his arms around his waist. Enjolras gives a half sigh and turns around in Grantaire's embrace.

"I'm working," he tells Grantaire, trying to look stern but failing miserably. Grantaire beams and pulls him closer.

"Is that a sword or are you just happy to see me?"

"... It's a sword."

They both look down and, yes, that is the hilt of a sword poking into Grantaire's hip. "Oh."

"Hold on," Enjolras tells him. He reaches down to fumble with his belt.

"Ow!" The sound of a sword clattering to the floor fills the room.

"Did you just cut yourself on your sword? Again?"

"... Yes."

Sighing, Grantaire pulls away and makes for the door. "I'll go get Joly."

*  
*

Enjolras brings it up one night.

"Do you ever think we might be in the wrong professon?"

Turning his head so he can hide his smile against Enjolras' shoulder, Grantaire replies, "Now, why in the world would I ever think that?"

"We're really awful at being pirates, you know."

Grantaire laughs, "I know."


End file.
